No More Today, Thanks
Usually my front door is open, and friends know they can drop by anytime. But today…I’m keeping that sucker closed. I am Not At Home, even though I am at home.
What’s the problem, you might ask? No problem. Just that I need to take a rest. I need to work, to sink into the worlds inside my head and get them out onto the page without interruption. Until tomorrow morning, I’m not up for anything except a true crisis. You’re in a Mexican jail at 3AM and you have only a cell phone and my number? Okay, cool, my first visit is the American Embassy and then I’m on a plane to come get you, don’t worry. But other than that, please, let me be alone today. I need it very badly.
It’s a funny thing–I am probably the least social person I know. And yet I almost always have a full house–kids, friends, friends of kids…I need large chunks of solitude that I hardly ever get because I have the wee ones. Sometimes it gets to the point where I retreat to a bathroom, close the door, and just sit on the floor for a little bit enjoying the idea of being alone as far as I can with cats and a seven-year-old yowling at the door. “MUMMY! WE DON’T EXIST IF YOU’RE NOT LOOOOOKING! COME OUUUUUUT!”
I exaggerate. But not by much. I am perfectly happy for long stretches of time in my own company. Which I see a lot of people just aren’t. Takes all kinds, I know…but I sorely need a break today.
Bukowski wrote a lot about needing solitude the way other people needed oxygen or food. It’s not quite that bad for me…but I understand.
So, my dears, I am off to be alone today. Of course, the kids are all home, so I will probably be driven to barring the bathroom door at some point.
I wonder if I can run a cord for the laptop in there? I will sit in a dry bathtub and write this scene that has to go in…
ETA: I find it amazingly ironic that Wordsmith’s quote of the day runs thus: “Solitude has but one disadvantage; it is apt to give one too high an opinion of one’s self. In the world we are sure to be often reminded of every known or supposed defect we may have.” -Lord Byron, poet (1788-1824)
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Tags: not worth chewing through the leather straps, novel madness, onoes!, slight pause for station identification
July 8th, 2009 at 12:46 pm
LOL I am the SAME way, bathroom and all. (I do it at WORK, though. Just go down to the little bathroom on the stairwell landing instead of the employee one by the cubicles, heh.)
July 8th, 2009 at 12:55 pm
Beautifully stated! Here I am, I’m alone all day, have to force myself to leave the house for a brisk walk and still the interruptions and demands are amazing. Twitter, email ‘boings’, phones ringing (both the land line and the cell phone), and of course, the ever present call of the refrigerator. Like you, all I want to do is write. But hey, in a dry bathtub? You may have really found the perfect solitude. LOL.
July 8th, 2009 at 12:57 pm
I dropped off copies of the RT reviews and the two Heyers with The Selkie yesterday.
July 8th, 2009 at 4:36 pm
Oh man I do understand your need to be alone. I had a husband who was like all your kids, friends, neighbors and et cetera all rolled into one, and I’d go hide in the bath to have the illusion of alone.
I’ve come to the conclusion that most writers or artists like being by themselves, that we find companionship with our thoughts and ideas. I never feel like I get enough time to myself, frankly, even when I lived alone.
July 8th, 2009 at 10:51 pm
I’m not sure if you were aware but amazon.com has your book flesh circus up w/both synopsis and cover. ITS AWESOME!